Loving Death
by lusciousharry
Summary: Draco and Harry are married, and have been for 8 years. Draco gets attacked, and Harry must face some major demons in his quest to heal him.


Prologue

"Irreversible," that was the word that stuck in Harry's mind. He could hear the Healer saying something else, but he couldn't quite make out the words over a buzzing in his ears that drowned out any coherent speech. Hermione's hand clasped aroung his shoulders steadying him, as if he would fall out of the sofa he'd been in for a week now, and to be honest, Harry couldn't be sure that he wouldn't.

The attack had been swift. So quick that Harry, turning to ask something of Draco, had no time to react to the wizard with his wand drawn, to react to the wisp of blue light that escaped from the tip, and slammed into Draco's back, throwing him to the ground with a thud that still made Harry sick, just thinking about it. Harry's wand was out in nanoseconds, the wizard bound by invisible chains before he even had time to process what had happened. But even all of his training, years spent as the best Auror at the Ministry, couldn't save his husband.

Harry had replayed the scene over and over in his head for the past seven days, trying to find something he could have done, some way he could have stopped the attack. Some way he could have prevented being in this hospital room, listening to the Healer announce that his husband might never wake up.

"Harry!" a sharp whisper came from his side. He must have missed something important, as Hermione was shaking him. He blinked a few times, the room coming back into focus. He noticed the Healer staring at him with a concerned look. "Mr. Potter, did you hear me?" Harry could only shaked his head, words weren't exactly flowing from his lips since the attack.

"I assure you, we will do everything in our power to heal your husband, but please understand that this magic is ancient and unlike anything we've seen before. There is hope for him, but it will be a long and difficult road, if we ever make any progress at all." At those words, Harry could feel the tears welling in his eyes, tears that he'd been fighting for so long.

He buried his head in his hands, feeling Hermione pull him closer to her on the sofa opposite the bed where the love of his life lay broken, perhaps beyond repair. The war had ended 12 years had been able to fool himself into believing the old prejudices had faded. _Idiot_ he thought to himself as his body rocked with sobs. He knew he had to pull it together, he was no use to Draco like this, but he just couldn't.

He and Draco had grown so close a few years after the war, becoming incredibly good friends. Ron had even started getting along with him, something that, even as the years passed, still amazed Harry. He and Ginny had tried the dating thing after the war, but as they came to realize, they were just two different people. Ginny had desired the quiet life, away from the reporters that followed Harry's movement. Seeing his face splashed across nearly every issue of the Daily Prophet for over a year put a huge strain on their relationship. For his part, Harry didn't relish in the attention, but he could never seem to make Ginny understand that. His career as an Auror meant that he was constantly nabbing dark wizards, and the press loved it. Headlines like _The-Boy-Who-Lived Does it Again!_ and there would be Harry's picture, trying his best to avoid the camera. Ginny could never cope with that, and it had driven a wedge between them that they never could over come.

A few months after they officially ended things, an event shouted out for the world to read in the Prophet with the headline _Harry Potter, The Boy who Loved, Faces Heartbreak...AGAIN!,_ Harry had received an owl. It was a distinguised looking thing, so grey it was almost silver. It tapped on the window twice, with an envelope in its beak. He took it, and tossed a pellet to the owl, grabbing it from a bowl he kept for his own, Atheria. It took flight with a contented hoot, and Harry shut the window.

Harry turned the letter over, and in flowing script in emerald green ink, was simply the word _Potter_. He had an inkling of an idea as to whom the letter was from. As he strode over to the armchair in the corner, Harry slid his finger under the wax seal holding the envelope together. Bringing himself down with a groan, he read the letter.

_Potter,_

_I heard of the recent breakup between you and the female Weasley, far be it from me to pass up a joke about the Ginger Horrors, I do offer my apologies. After everything you've been through in your life, you deserve a bit of happiness. Apparently not everyone is content with being the Savior of the Wizarding world. _

Prick, Harry thought to himself.

_With that being said, I would appreciate if you would consider dinner with me at the Leaky Cauldron on the 23rd. There is rather delicate matter that I would like to discuss with you, if you are willing. I shall be waiting at 7pm. _

_Draco Malfoy. _

Harry couldn't begin to fathom what Malfy wanted to meet with him about, though he suspected that it might have to do with the recent uptick in attacks on former Death Eaters. What he expected Harry to do about it was another matter entirely.

Looking back, Harry would pinpoint that as the start of their relationship, though officially it was 6 months later. As suspected Draco wanted to talk to Harry about threats made against him and his family. During their initial enocunter Harry had remarked on how much Draco had changed since the war and Hogwarts. His usual smugness gone, Harry had felt a genuine sense of desperation in his voice. Harry, being one to never say no to someone in need, began monitoring the Malfoy home, and having regular meetings with Draco. The entire thing culminated when Harry made an arrest of two wizards attempting to breach the security of Malfoy Manor, armed not only with their wands, but enchanted daggers and a strange, twisted horn that made him sick just by looking at it.

That night Harry and Draco decided to celebrate, with Draco ordering bottle after bottle of expensive wine and champagne to the room he'd been occupying at the Cauldron. The more drunk the pair got, the more the uncomfortable truth began to spill from their lips. Harry admitted that he had begun feeling...something for Draco, but he couldn't explain it. Draco replied with a sly smile that he knew exactly what he was feeling, and he was more than welcome to give himself over to the desire.

So he did.

They met regularly after that, alternating between each other's homes, until they realized, Draco long before Harry, that they didn't want to go home when their encounters were over. And as the days passed into months which melted into years, the two realized that they had found the happiness they'd been searching for, for longer than they cared to admit.


End file.
